Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the pawn shop. Marco, clutching the wallet, felt a chill creep up his spine. He'd found it abandoned on the grimy sidewalk, the contents spilling out in the downpour. He gathered the scattered bills, his fingers numb. The sheer volume of money was staggering. He wasn't accustomed to handling this kind of wealth.

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the oily strands sticking to his forehead. The shop owner, a man whose face was as craggy as the mountains he'd once climbed, observed him with keen, knowing eyes. Marco stammered out a story about finding it. The shop owner merely grunted, his gaze fixed on the overflowing wallet. He finally just said, "Well?"